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Judith Fonseca Lestrange/Selected works
Selected works by 19th-century Channelier poet Judith Fonseca Lestrange A Seaside Eulogy Eddies ebb and flow endlessly, Capricious crabs glide to and fro, Knotted kelp for you to see— Somewhere south lies thy soul. Hatred harkens to every plea, Like leopard seals on the prowl, Fortunes follow do believe— That thy yes are my waterfowl. If Iasion were here my dear, He h'would think little of thee, Though then Lord Zeus struck fear— Death did set him—and me— Relieve! Letter from the Maid Master, I am sorry—to inform That I—cannot—come today In the morning—when :I— ::saw the sea admiring— :::its beauty— It called— ::I came. So– Perhaps you too—should Come out the house today. On Wise Men ::As wise men search desperately for truth, So too, the maiden girl, by the booth. Confounded by the idiosyncrasies of life, Little children, play freely with no strife. ::Is it truth we find in wearèd canon, Or perhaps torn papers from dear Landon? I do not proclaim to know the truth, But probing is better than to be aloof. ::For curious minds are ones who seek, And gaze upon celestial spheres so to speak, But do you suppose that truth can think? I regard it as an immobile, quick blink, ::Others insist that it shifts and moves, Like rugged rocks smoothèd with grooves. As time wears it away to nothingness, I think wise men have no place in this. ::For this truth flees in light of proof. Sparrow Unfinished The sun at dusk was the eye of an angry god, A lone fisherman was moored betwixt the crests; The sand was patterned with tantamount soles, Unmoved and untouched, bore few stones. The Temple of Anubis Longing for my beloved, I lie grounded and venereal, Like the temple of Anubis, I am ancient and forgotten; Corporeal yet vacated longer than time immemorial, Gone are the unnamed masons who allowed me begotten. Enchanted summers are only whispers on autumn nights, These cherry blossoms which bore fruit have tapered off, For no longer shall there be harvest beneath these blights; Primed but never reaped, this bark now molded paper soft. Restless and filled with want, a childless bitch left unspayed, On forlorn nights such as this, I stand guard for master nearing; With vain hope I pray toward the backwards God inveighed, I am the forsaken Leviathan, who ate the rotten fruit of Eden. A statue with no sculptor, my bosom bears these Venusian stones, And dressed in parsley lichen, the form which has but corroded; Were I in Pompeii after the fateful day, I would be among the clones, And when they come to have me unearthed, it shall be my devoted. Wretched yet unsullied, he has entered neither doors nor seen, I grant him privy to the chambers but only silence fills my cavern, A seed unplanted, a flower unbloomed, a thumb severed green. When I am lowered under lilacs and trees, place me by Saturn. When I become inseparable with the dirt on which I still stand, And my Maker who has cast me aside cannot recognize me, My dear beloved shall meet his end and then know the land, At last consummated, we are one embrace for all eternity. When I came down to Audbon When I came down to Audubon, There was someone without a son, And though I knew something t'was wrong, I could not stop to talk too long. I said 'adieu' and went along!